The Grey Pearl (Of Caladuin: Volume Two)

18

Tathariel limped across the cold wet floor of her cell. While the guards were beating her, she had surveyed the room for any means of escape. It seemed to be a small natural chamber off the main tunnel in this part of the fortress. The floors and ceiling had been worked roughly but the ceiling was adorned with glistening stalactites. The door was heavy oak, strengthened with iron. The chamber was empty.

Now, in the darkness, she paced the floor, wriggling and twisting, trying to loosen the thin roped that bound her wrists behind her. She had pictured the knot the guard had used and was working on loosening the first turn. It had been tied for her inconvenience and discomfort more than anything else and would be easy enough to loosen given enough time.

She tried to keep calm as the thought of Uglûdh sauntering into the dining hall kept nibbling at her mind. A quick, disdainful glance was all it had taken for her to lose her composure. And now she was here, naked and beaten. But not helpless.

At last, she held the rope in front of her; it was thin but had been doubled up and was about a yard long. Now she would put it to better use.

She started to tie a large knot in one end of the rope and at the same time started screaming, putting as much feigned hysteria into it as she could. She wrapped the other end of the rope around her right hand. When the sound of footsteps could just be heard above her wails, she readied herself near the door. The thin band of light was broken by the shadows of two guards. She screamed even louder as she crouched on her haunches. The door was unlocked and swung open.

Tathariel rammed her dressed fist into the first guard's groin. She yanked him into the cell as he doubled up and before slamming the door behind her. She threw the rope around his neck and pulled him back, putting all their combined weight against the door. In the dark, she gathered the ends of the rope in one hand and pulled even harder. The guard gave a choked gargle. With her free hand, she fumbled for the hilt of his dagger, found his hand there instead. She released the rope and kicked him away before yanking the door open. The second guard tumbled into the cell.

Now she had light. Both Dolendrim were on their knees at the back of the cell. She pounced at the second guard before he could recover and swung the rope around his neck. Just in time. The first guard lunged at her, his knife aloft. She pulled hard on the rope, prizing the second guard from the floor. The first guard jabbed at her face but the knife found her shield's throat. The rope snapped and blood spurted over the first guard's arm as he stood in shock.

Tathariel saw her opportunity and kneed the dying guard forward. The first guard was forced to stagger backwards as she quickly found the other's knife. She lunged and jabbed but the guard recovered and swiped her arm away. He countered with a jab aimed at her ribs but she parried and brought her knee up into his wrist. She used the imbalance to grab his forearm. He swung at her with his free hand but she blocked it then launched her forehead into his face. From the moment he went limp, she knew she had him. She swung her armoured fist into his temple and he slumped against the wall. His knife tinkled on the stone floor.

She lowered him to his knees then gently onto his belly. After padding to the door, she peeked around the jamb. The passageway was empty. She ducked back into the cell and looked at the unconscious guard, withering at the thought of what she had to do next. For a moment, she thought about tying and gagging him but there was always the risk that he might untie himself. If she wanted to avoid the alarm being raised, she had no choice.

Afterwards, she muttered a prayer of atonement as she wiped the blade. Savages they may be but the Dolendrim were still Elf-kind. She took the knife into the corridor, locking the door behind her.

As well as the lamp on the opposite wall, there was a dim light to her left where the passageway made a sharp bend. As she tiptoed towards the light, a table and a couple of chairs came into view. The dress she had been given was draped over one of the chairs and the slippers sat side by side under the table. She thanked the Valar and quickly pulled the dress over her head. She felt less vulnerable now but still exposed. She was about to turn away when she noticed a pile of clothes on the other chair. She unfolded a tunic and held it to the light then placed it on the table, thinking.

She padded back towards the cell. It was one of four and the doors of the other three were ajar. She looked at the lamp again. Just a normal oil lamp hanging from a rusty iron hook. The passageway beyond was in utter darkness. She would have to take the lamp and with it, her chances. As she reached up for it, she heard a whisper.

"Tathariel."